The Myth of America First
How Donald Trump’s Retreat from Expertise Made the Iran Conflict Far More Dangerous
For decades, America’s influence in the world rested not only on its military power or economic weight, but on something quieter and more durable: the relationships forged by a professional diplomatic corps. These were the people who carried American values into rooms without cameras, who understood the political currents in places most Americans will never visit, and who helped prevent crises long before they reached the headlines.
That infrastructure has been deliberately dismantled. Over the past year, the United States has withdrawn from dozens of international organizations and dismissed hundreds of career diplomats, a contraction of American engagement without precedent in the modern era. This was not administrative housekeeping; it was a conscious retreat from the instruments of influence that have long enabled America to anticipate crises, build coalitions, and steer global events without resorting to force.
Now, as American service members find themselves in the crosshairs of a widening conflict with Iran, the consequences of that retreat are becoming painfully clear.
Operation Epic Fury is being waged without the people who understand the region best. Career diplomats are not ornamental. They are the institutional memory of American statecraft — the people who negotiate ceasefires, secure the release of political prisoners, and build coalitions that kept our troops out of wars. They are the ones who can tell the difference between a miscommunication and a mobilization. When you remove them, you are not trimming fat. You are severing nerves.
And while the Trump administration insists it is “prioritizing American interests,” its handling of Americans caught in the crossfire suggests otherwise. When the first strikes landed and commercial routes collapsed, thousands of U.S. citizens were left to fend for themselves, refreshing embassy websites that offered little more than recycled advisories, calling hotlines that rang unanswered, and sleeping on airport floors as borders closed. Charter flights were approved only after days of public outcry, a reactive scramble that revealed what should never be true in a country with our resources: there was no plan to get our own people out. A government capable of mobilizing a carrier strike group in hours should not require public shaming to rescue American families.
The sudden closure of the Strait of Hormuz further underscores the cost of this lost capacity. While no diplomatic corps can guaranteed a chokepoint stays open during a regional war, seasoned professionals can provide early warning, build pressure‑release channels, and negotiate limited exemptions that prevent a crisis from becoming a global crisis. This time, there were too few of them in place to do any of that. The result was a shutdown that hit with maximum force, disrupting energy markets, stranding commercial vessels, and narrowing America’s military and economic options at the very moment we needed flexibility.
The damage extends beyond diplomacy. The Trump administration’s cuts didn’t just thin our diplomatic ranks; they weakened the basic intelligence work that keeps our forces ahead of threats. Russia has moved quickly to exploit these gaps. They’re now sharing lessons refined on the battlefields of Ukraine with Iran. The result is immediate and dangerous: with Putin’s help, Shahed drones are finding openings in our defenses that proper planning and a fully staffed system should have caught. This is not an unavoidable consequence of war. It is the predictable result of tearing down the institutions that keep our forces and our partners out of harm’s way.
The administration claims its “America First” agenda has strengthened national security. In practice, it has stripped away the safeguards that prevent our operations from creating new enemies. These consequences are no longer theoretical; they are devastating. In southern Iran, a single strike in Minab reportedly killed more than 165 children. Civilian deaths on that scale do not merely undermine the moral legitimacy of a mission; they create generational enemies.
And when the president falsely blamed Iran for the attack even after it was clear the munition was American, he deepened the outrage abroad and further eroded what support we still had. The result is fewer allies, more critics, and opponents who exploit global anger for strategic leverage. In a climate already primed for escalation, precision is not a luxury. It is a national security imperative.
When we hollow out the institutions that translate American values into action, we are not projecting strength. We are broadcasting carelessness.
Perhaps the most alarming consequence of the diplomatic drawdown is the absence of a coherent endgame. The Trump administration’s stated goals shift by the week — from “unconditional surrender” to regime change to vague talk of a “quick deal.” None of these objectives are supported by a strategy, and none are achievable without a functioning State Department.
Diplomacy is not the consolation prize after the fighting stops. It is the mechanism that turns military gains into durable outcomes. Negotiating an end to a conflict of this magnitude requires deep regional knowledge, trusted relationships, and the ability to navigate complex political landscapes. Those are precisely the capabilities we have spent the past year dismantling.
Meanwhile, the war is costing an estimated $1 billion per day. Our Gulf allies are watching their infrastructure burn and their economies strain under the pressure. Disinformation is spreading through the region unchecked, eroding the coalition that once stood with us. And we have too few diplomats on the ground to counter any of it.
America’s global influence has never been automatic. It was earned through presence, engagement, and the steady work of professionals who understand that power is most effective when it is exercised with restraint and foresight.
Rebuilding that capacity will take years. Restoring trust will take longer. But the alternative is a world in which America is no longer the architect of its own security, but a secondary actor responding to crises it once had the expertise to prevent.
The path forward begins with a simple recognition: diplomacy is not weakness. It is leverage. It is the tool that prevents wars, shortens wars, and ensures that the sacrifices made in war are not wasted.
We must reinvest in the institutions that have long amplified American power. We must bring back the career professionals who know how to navigate the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. And we must return to the multilateral partnerships that have served as force multipliers for generations.
America cannot lead the world by retreating from it. Our strength has always been our reach. It is time to extend it again.
